


Game Night

by TheLateNightStoryTeller



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fun, bffs in love, spoilers for 3x11
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:46:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLateNightStoryTeller/pseuds/TheLateNightStoryTeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At peace at last, Fitz and Jemma take a night to themselves. Set after 3x11 Now multiple nights :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Game Night

One quiet evening, when the base was nearly empty and they could almost pretend that they were the only two people in the universe, that there was no SHIELD, no Hydra, no death, Fitz and Jemma decided to have a game night.

Not just any game night. They weren’t just playing any game, they were playing _the_ game, their gamem the one they started years ago, accumulating players and additions, the one whose rules were etched into both of their heads as well as written down. The one they’d been playing ever since their graduation from the Academy. It was their secret of course, shared with a select group of SHIELD agents (three of which had died during the fall, something neither of them brought up tonight).

The goal was simple, stop the villain from destroying the city using the ever growing team of heroes.

The game had been remade four times. Two times to update the board, once because the board split in two and once because it was destroyed when Hydra took the Bus. The newest version was in the middle of receiving an update too, but they were only adding new pieces. No need to reconstruct the board a fifth time.

As Jemma set up the board, arranging the villains in a random order across the honeycomb of tiles, Fitz made his way in, precariously balancing a plate of pastries and two steaming mugs. Foreseeing an accident, she stood to take the plate from him, grinning when the scent of warm strawberry filling hit her nose.

“Fitz is this…?” she asked happily, setting the plate down on the coffee table of the sitting room. Her mouth was already watering, beseeching her to take a bite.

“Called your dad to make sure I had the recipe right,” he told her shyly, placing the mugs down next to it. “I know I’m not as good at baking as you are but…” He shrugged. “You said you’d missed them.”

She smiled softly at him, plucking one of the treats into a napkin before sitting down. “I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”

Fitz grinned back, taking one of his own, and they continued to set up.

“Do you think we should add one for Elena?” Jemma asked absently, arranging the Static figurine next to the Quake one. “We could have her able to do two moves in one turn, but she’d need to-“

“Return back to the tile she started on,” they said in unison. They smiled again and Fitz took a sip of his drink, thinking.

In the pause, she took the opportunity to bite into her pastry, closing her eyes to savor the tart sweetness. It was warm and flaky and reminded her of home, so different from the first time she’d tried a strawberry all those months ago. It made her glad to know that she could enjoy such things once again, and it warmed her heart to know that her friend knew she’d want to. 

They’d just added a piece for Joey, _the Blacksmith_ , they called it. He could move through metal walls and was impervious to bullets. They had more players than they needed each game now, so they tended to cycle between them. If they added Elena, they’d be able to play with an all Inhuman team.

“Lincoln says their powers aren’t random,” she told him, setting up her half of the team and rolling the dice. “He told me they fill an evolutionary need of the species.”

“Like intelligent design?” She was pleased to find that he was just as excited about it as she was. “You think they have some sort of… triggered genetic selection? That the same person could have the potential for multiple powers but-“

“Only one is activated, yes,” she said brightly. “And it also means we can create a model to _predict_ what powers a given Inhuman will have.”

“Like you and me?” he asked curiously.

She frowned, confused. “We’re not Inhuman. And… Fitz you aren’t going to let Hunter talk you into trying-“

“No, no I’m not,” he said quickly. “Of course not but… well you know I’ve always wanted to make pieces for _us._ ”

It was true, he’d been suggesting they make themselves part of the game for years now. They’d never been able to narrow down which powers they should have though, and so the pieces had been left unmade. It was too easy to get lost in the possibilities when you had a limitless set of them. Did they want to fly, or turn invisible? Did they want to have super hearing or super vision? Now though…

She shrugged, setting down her mug. “You are a hero Fitz; you don’t need powers.” The simple statement pulled his gaze towards her, his jaw dropping and she felt her ears burn as she realized she’d been too upfront. “It’s the truth,” she mumbled helplessly. There was no point in trying to dig her way out of it, she had meant it after all.

“Neither do you,” he said warmly. He turned back to the game, smiling broadly. “I’ll make them up tomorrow if you’d like. I have some spare parts lying around my workspace I could use.”

“Can I help?” she asked brightly.

The question made his eyes dance. “I’d love it if you would.”

Something sparked in her stomach, fire crackers dancing over it, and she wondered if it showed on her face. She tried not to let it scare her, to allow herself to embrace the pleasant emotions and accept that it didn’t mean someone was going to get hurt. It had been a long time since she’d felt so good and she was planning on cherishing every moment of it.  

The evening progressed, pastries eaten, mugs drained. They moved their pieces, gaining points, battles won, battles lost, working together towards their shared goal. A few of their friends had suggested they make the game competitive, one team against another, but she wasn’t sure how it would fit in to the logic of the world they’d created. When would their heroes fight each other rather than the villains? Why would Iron Man ever face off against Captain America?

“But if we _did_ have powers,” Fitz pipped up eventually. “Wouldn’t you like to know what they would be?”

Jemma pursed her lips, thinking. “I suppose so,” she answered at last. “Yes, I’d like to know what powers we’d have.” She smiled excitedly. “And we _do_ need to do a trial run of the model once we’ve created it.”

“It only makes sense for us to use ourselves first,” he added.

“We can get started this week,” she decided. “It’s been quiet lately. Well,  _quieter_.”

“We had the evening off,” he elaborated cheerfully. “And I haven’t fallen asleep in the lab once this week.”

“It’s been lovely, having the time to get our work done-“

“Without some new disaster looming over us-“

“Or an impossible deadline creeping up-“

“Together.”

The last word was said in unison, making her heart flutter with joy and she gave his shoulder an affectionate bump with her own.

“It’s nice to have my partner back,” she told him fondly. _My best friend, my heart._

His eyes were twinkling as he stared back at her. “It is,” he agreed.

They resumed their game, chatting about the Inhuman model, about their friends, about new breakthroughs in the lab, about everything and anything, content that they were fortunate enough to exist together in that moment and that they’d both been brave enough to seize it.


	2. Chat Night

It was another calm evening at the Playground. Fitz and Jemma were already in their pyjamas, sipping hot tea as they sat across from each other on the sofa. Their socked feet rested only inches apart, nearly meeting on Jemma’s end where she’d curled herself up atop a soft cushion as Fitz stretched out.

“I’m not entirely sure they’d even noticed we’d left,” Jemma was saying, frowning at the memory before taking as sip of her tea. “They were so _angry._ And it wasn’t long before that I caught them… well it seemed like a particularly intimate moment.”

“It’s strange how sometimes people go from being unable to keep their hands off each other to being so upset,” Fitz agreed. “And… and then back again,” he added, the tips of his ears taking on a deep shade of pink as he did.

Jemma raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I uh….” He gulped, averting eye contact. “It was accident.”

Curious, she leaned forward. “What happened?”

“I may have accidentally walked in on them,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh Fitz you didn’t!” she gasped. “Why didn’t you knock?”

“Well the door was wide open!” he defended, his eyes darting around the room to ensure that, yes, they were alone. “I thought it would be OK to go in and I saw…” His face turned beet red and he hid himself in his hands. “I just stood there…. I didn’t know where to look and Daisy was-“ He groaned. “I didn’t think I was staring…”

“Oh Fitz,” she sighed. _What am I going to do with you?_

“She’s never going to speak to me again. I’m going to have to shut my eyes whenever she’s in the room,” he lamented.

Jemma tsked at him. “You’re both mature adults, I’m sure if you just apologized-“

“I was still apologizing as she shut the door on my good for nothing face,” he moaned. “Why didn’t I just turn around?”

“Don’t say that, I like your face,” Jemma objected, giving him a fond prod with her foot. “And I’m sure you’ll all look back on this and-“

“If you say laugh-“ he warned.

“…. And not be quite so mortified by it,” she finished sheepishly. As Fitz let out a pitiful whine, she bit her lip, suddenly nervous. “I don’t think Daisy liked what we found,” she worried.

“You mean what Creel’s blood can do?” Fitz asked, lowering his hands now that they’d changed the subject. “I don’t think she’ll blame us for doing our job.”

“No,” Jemma agreed. For a moment she was silent, thinking. “What do you think?” she asked at last. “About a vaccine? If we managed to make one would you take it?”

She watched him carefully as he mulled it over, forcing patience although she was thirsty for his reply.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “Would you?”

“Yes.” Her answer came without hesitation. “I don’t need powers and the risk of being exposed and _not_ being an Inhuman…” Her eyes clouded but she wasn’t thinking about herself. “You wouldn’t want to be protected? You know the chances of undergoing a transformation are-“

“Slim I know,” he finished gently. “But I…” He shrugged, unsure. “What if it’s what I’m supposed to be? Like Daisy said.”

“I don’t think anyone’s _supposed_ to be anything,” she objected dismissively. “We chose who we are and…” A flush rose to her cheeks. “I like who you are.”

“But… but you’d still like me if I was-“ he began uncertainly.

“Inhuman?” she guessed. “Of course I would.”

He smiled at that, a bashful smile that brought sunshine into the room. “I’d still like you too,” he said fondly. Then he chuckled “And you’d probably slip the vaccine into my tea anyway-“

She sat up at that. “I would not,” she objected, offended, and he held up his hands defensively.

“I was joking Jemma,” he assured her.

“I would never do something to you that you didn’t want me to,” she went on seriously, leaning back but holding his gaze. “If you don’t want it… that is _if_ we can make it- I won’t force you take it. I promise.” A cloud descended over her and her eyes fell to her knees. “But… but I would worry… of course because…”

She trailed off and they both thought of Trip, falling into an uneasy silence.

“I could always dig up one of those fish oil pills,” he suggested, half serious. “That way, if I wasn’t Inhuman, there’d be no harm in taking the vaccine.”

“But what if you were?” she asked. “Would you want that?”

He paused, uncertain. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

The conversation hit a natural lull as they each took a chance to enjoy their hot drinks. It was getting late but neither of them were ready to turn in just yet, too caught up in each other’s company.

“What do you think of Watch Dog?” she said after a minute, and the disdain in her voice made it perfectly clear what _she_ thought of it.

“I think people are dangerous when they’re scared,” Fitz answered, matching her tone.

“I’d be scared too if the first Inhuman I met was like Giyera,” Jemma pointed out quietly.

She was far away as she said it, a memory playing itself behind her eyes and Fitz leaned forward to gently grasp her hand, bringing her back to him. Neither of them spoke but she cast him a weak smile, stacking her other hand over his.

Another lull, thicker this time, until Fitz took a turn to break it.

“So did you get a chance to look at my town in Clash of Trolls?” he asked, turning to a lighter topic.

“Oh yes and my army took all your gold,” she told him brightly.

Fitz took his hand back, aghast. “You… you what?” he spluttered. “How?”

“If I told you my strategy I wouldn’t be able to use it again would I?” she teased.

“I’ll get it back,” he vowed. “Your village is mostly archers anyway- not a very good defense.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, unconcerned. “They beat you.”

“Did you even _look_ my new setup?” he asked, half amused, half frustrated.

“I took screenshots,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Before and after. I sent them to you.”

“You’re a lousy winner,” he accused, but his mouth was twitching up in a smile. She shrugged, smug, and he poked her leg with his foot. “I hope you at least left my-“

“You’re Magma-pup is perfectly safe,” she assured him with a giggle. “I know how fond you are of Henry.”

They smiled at each other and she felt a brief pang of longing as the ghosts of his fingerprints faded from her hand. They would touch again though, she let herself believe that, allowed herself to bathe in the warmth of the thought that they had all the time in the world to sort this out and besides, this moment was treasure enough.

Another hour passed before they headed to bed at last and they fell asleep with the same final thought, of how grateful they were to have this now, to have each other, and how beautiful a thing that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Fitz walking in on Daisy and Lincoln I got scrolling through tumblr right after the episode aired. Someone mentioned that they never closed the door. I wish I remembered who mentioned it, but hey good catch :D


	3. Movie Night

Fitz pulled the blanket up to his face, wincing and wishing he could block his ears _and_ his eyes at the same time. “Just tell me when it’s over,” he muttered.

Jemma tsked at him. “Oh Fitz, it isn’t remotely realistic-“

“It’s realistic _enough_ ,” he grumbled. “And I liked Sandy, I thought she was going to make it.”

“I didn’t,” Jemma told him, and he watched her continue to stare at the carnage out of the corner of his eye. “Emmett is in love with both her _and_ Mackenzie, one of them was going to die. And since the Mackenzie was in the first shot of the movie…” She shrugged, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Honestly Fitz, it’s a simple formula. I’m disappointed you haven’t caught on by now.”

How could she _eat_ at a time like this? Love her as he did, sometimes she could be pretty gross. At least there were no stray body parts next to his food.

“Excuse me for expecting them to change things up every once and a while,” he countered. Another terrible sloshing sound, screaming, and he groaned into the blanket. “Has it stopped yet?”

“Not yet,” she giggled. “I’ll tell you when it does.”

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” he accused.

She grabbed another handful. “A little,” she admitted, amused.

“I new it,” he teased, doing his best to take his mind- and stomach- off the _very long_ death scene. “You’re mad with power.”

Her giggles grew louder, chiming through the air as she bumped his shoulder. “It’s over now.”

He pulled the blanket down cautiously, relieved to find it had switched back to the main group.

“Who’s next?” he asked.

“Paul,” she said confidently. “He’s falling into the spike pit we saw at the beginning.”

“Nah, he’s going to die saving Emmett or Mackenzie,” Fitz guessed. “And that trap is poorly designed. They didn’t even set any bait. Do they really expect someone to stumble upon it by accident? We’d have designed it better.”

“Of course we would have,” she agreed. “And we’d have angled the spears better too. I still think he’s falling in though; they wouldn’t show it to us if no one was going to. Paul will be chased into it.”

“It could be Gretchen,” he pointed out.

“Would you like to make a bet?” she challenged.

He grinned at her. “Winner chooses the next one.”

“It’s nearly ten O’clock,” she chided. “We really should-“

“Ah Jemma, live a little,” he teased, snatching a fistful of the popcorn. “Coulson said we could take tomorrow off.”

“If nothing terrible happens,” she added sternly.

“Well I’m _not_ going to bed after _that_ ,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ll have… strange dreams…”

“You’ll have nightmares,” she mused. She shook her head, in awe. “You’ll jump through a hole to another planet but you wont go to bed after watching _Revenge of the Saw People._ ”

“I’d go to bed if it was with you,” he defended. Then his eyes widened as he realized what that might have sounded like. “I mean… _for_ you, not _with_ you. I’m not saying… I’m saying I’d sleep _for_ you.” Now it just sounded ridiculous.

She was smiling at him, a twinkle in her eyes. “I’d sleep for you too,” she said softly.

His cheeks flushed, but when she looked back at the film he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. She could see it, out of the corner of her eye, but he didn’t mind. She’d made him happy and maybe he didn’t need to hide that.

They did end up sleeping together, curled up and softly snoring before the second movie ended and it was Jemma who stirred first, eyes fluttering open to the feeling of his cheek against her hair. She kept still, savoring it before Fitz woke too, yawning as he stretched and, still half asleep she shifted to snuggle onto his lap, head resting on his thigh.

“Is this alright?” she asked hazily, realizing that she should ensure she wasn’t making him uncomfortable.

They’d been taking slow, not knowing exactly where they were going, but it had been months of little steps, precious moments, stray touches, that had led up to _her_ feeling right laying like this. She’d understand if he wasn’t ready yet.

“Yeah,” he murmured. His arm draped over her side, warm and reassuring. “Is… is this?”

She smiled fondly. He was nervous, like she was, but it hadn’t stopped him either. “I like it,” she mumbled. She closed her eyes. “If I fall asleep, wake me up when it’s over.”

“I will,” he promised and she was glad he’d convinced her to stay for another. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to agl03 for you help with the game characters :D


End file.
